


Don't Pray for Me

by violentluck



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentluck/pseuds/violentluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Reader Insert. A Russia and Reader. </p>
<p> I was listening to 'Holy Horses*t Batman' by Gym Class Heroes...odd name but good song. Yes I had to make him a bit crazy, but that is why we love him correct?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Pray for Me

A woman on the street, handing out religious pamphlets. A silver haired man, a good 6'1" as guess ended up receiving one. No too far away,  
about 50 feet, give or take a foot or two, a young woman stood at a bus stop, she missed one so she has to wait another hour or so in the bitter cold wind. A light jacket, a pair of matching knitted gloves and a beanie her Grandmother gave her two Christmases ago, snow boots and skinny jeans. The very large and tall man caught her attention, as well as the cafe filled with food and warmth. There is so much mystery to him, drawing her to him. Along with his tall stature, he wore a equally as long as he is tall, tan jacket, black pants, black shoes and a light pink scarf. She could hear the woman trying to convince him to take the pamphlet, again he said no. She promised him that it will lead to the 'promise land'. In response, he shook his head and said 'There is no place for me in the sky. It won't save me. Don't pray for me. A fool would believe otherwise.' It was odd he would say something like that, but the young woman kept looking at him, wondering why? At that moment, his eyes looked straight at (e/c) of the young woman. It was like time had stopped, even though it was for a moment. She looked away, hoping the cold wind would be a good enough excuse for how red her face is. Never had she noticed how handsome he really was; he was tall, more than likely strong, face that of a boyish charm. The one thing that caught her attention the most was his eyes. How they held her, making time stop. Faster than she is willing to admit, a cough came behind her, causing her to turn around. Again she is held by the amethyst eyes, they showed all the scars and the imitating vibe rolled off of him like clouds off a mountain. But his smile said something different, she couldn't quite place it.

"Hello" He said, the accent just thick enough so it was rather attractive without even trying.

"Hi" She said, blushing.

"It is cold out Da? You are shivering." He said, moving a bit closer to her, and started to unwrap his scarf. She didn't even noticed that she was shivering in the first place until now. Slouching her shoulders, her arms wrapping around her waist, in attempt to block the cold. He wrapped the scarf around her neck, surprisingly it was helping keep the cold out.

"Thank you. But why did you do that?" She asked, very confused.

"I wanted to. I'm from Mother Russia, so I can handle the cold better than you can." He said, a small smile appearing, causing her to smile as well.

"Again thank you. May I ask what your name is?"

"Ivan Bragnski." He answered, his expression said for her to return with her name.

"(F/n) (L/n)" She said, feeling th soft fabric of the pink scarf. Never has anyone been this nice to a complete stranger. Especially (F/n), most men would let her freeze, not even noticing her existence. That is what happens in a big city like this. She went to speak to him, but he vanished down the sidewalk. 

'Should I? Of course! This is his scarf! I have to return it!' She thought, but then she saw the loyal blue and white bus. She can't miss the bus again, she will lose her job. But if she gets on and goes to work, he will never get his scarf back. "Maybe he already knew that." She said out loud. So she boarded the bus, with a heavy heart. How in the world that one very mysterious man can hold her attention within minutes than her last boyfriend did in 2 hours. Was it the mystery? Or the emotional scars he showed in his eyes.

"Ivan Bragnski, I must be a fool. I would pray for you." She whispered, looking at the people as the bus drove by them. The bus stopped to pick up other human popsicles, little did she know that Ivan got on the bus and now sitting by her. Looking over her shoulder, a smile graced her lips. 

"I didn’t know you rode this bus ______" He said, watching her rub her hands together, still cold as ice.

"I only ride when I have to work." Out of nowhere, he wrapped his much bigger hands around her smaller ones. A heavy blush appeared on her face. The warmth helped her hands de-ice, and very grateful for it.

"You look very cute when you blush" Incidentally causing her to blush a deeper red. Another smile appeared, oh she is starting to be a great fan of them. A man sat down, smashing her knees into the side of the bus, the cold metal causing her to shiver again. The next thing she knew, the man ended up sprawled on the floor. His face turned purple in anger.

"I'm going to sue you!!" The man shouted.

"I do not care." He pulled out a metal pipe out of his jacket, fear started to seep into everyone on the bus, including _____. He raised the pipe and slammed down on his torso. The man howled in pain, screaming profanities. Again another hit in the torso.

"Now I want to you to apologize. That you will never do that again." Ivan said, his voice turning as cold as the harsh winter.

"No." The man said, scowling like a spoiled child, crossing his arms around his chest.

"You do not have a choice." A psychotic grin appeared on Ivan's face. So the man, realizing that he is moments from death, crawled over to her, resting on his knees. His pinstripe suit starting to wrinkle. She looked down in horror, and oddly, sick pleasure. She never would feel like that, but there is a first for everything.

"I apologize ma'am. I didn't realize I was causing you discomfort." The man started at her, his brown eyes pleading her to forgive him.

"It is ok." She said quietly, standing up, ready to get off at her stop. Ivan gave him another hysterical maniac grin and followed her off the bus. The cold slapped the pair in the face when they got off. The diner loomed as she stood there, not wanting to stay nor leave. Ivan wrapped her in a hug, and a light kiss on the lips, then letting her go.

"I come back when you get off work." He escorted her to the door.

"I get off at 3." She started to unwrap the scarf to give back to him, but he stopped her.

"You keep it, it looks cuter on you." He started to walk away, but then she grabs his arm, stopping him.

"I'll pray for you. It may not heal you, but that doesn't mean there isn't a place in the sky for you." She said, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him, then walking into the diner. He stood there for a while, smirking.

(1)"Тогда вы дурак. Мой прекрасный дурак." He said, slightly smiling at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> (1)Тогда вы дурак. Мой прекрасный дурак: Then you are a fool. My beautiful fool.
> 
> You own yourself....hopefully...  
> Ivan Bragnski is owned by the brilliant men that created Hetalia.  
> The lyrics are owned by Gym Class Heroes  
> and of course I own the story.
> 
> I apologize for those that can speak Russian if this is wrong. Google Translate is a beautiful thing in my case.


End file.
